Hyakujo (Pai-chang Huai-hai, 724–814)[5.14] one day went out attending his master Baso (Ma-tsu). A flock of wild geese was seen flying and Baso asked “What are they?” “They are wild geese, sir.” “Whither are they flying?” “They have flown away, sir.” Baso abruptly taking hold of Hyakujo’s nose gave it a twist. Overcome with pain, Hyakujo cried aloud, “Oh! Oh!” “You say they have flown away,” Baso said, “but all the same they have been here from the very beginning.” This made Hyakujo’s back wet with cold perspiration. He had satori. Is there any connection in any possible way between the washing of the dishes and the blowing out of a candle and the twisting of the nose? We must say with Ummon: If there is none, how could they all come to the realisation of the truth of Zen? If there is, what inner relationship is there? What is this satori? What a new point of viewing things is this? So long as our observation is limited to those conditions which preceded the opening of a disciple’s eye we cannot perhaps fully comprehend where lies the ultimate issue. They are matters of everyday occurrence, and if Zen lies objectively among them, every one of us is a master before we are told of it. This is partly true inasmuch as there is nothing artificially constructed in Zen, but if the nose is to be really twisted or the candle blown out in order to take the scale off the eye, our attention must be directed inwardly to the working of our minds, and it will be there where we are to take hold of the hidden relation existing between the flying geese and the washed dishes and the blown out candle and any other happenings that weave out infinitely variegated patterns of human life.